(Dis)Gracing the Stage
by DLGleek45
Summary: Santana finds herself in a job she hates. Her closest friends Quinn and Brittany weren't able to help, but what happens when Rachel shows up.


**A/N: First fanfiction. Comment and let me know what you think. I'm a creative writer so there's a lot of description. Disclaimer: I do not own the characters.**

(Dis)Gracing the Stage

As she dressed, if you could even call it that, Santana observed herself in the mirror. The Latina donned midnight colored lacey panties that hugged her hips just barely covering her. Her bra expressed a different picture then what was actually there. The lace and sequins decorated the cups drawing attention to her ample chest. Her shawl covered absolutely nothing being sheer, short, and lacey at the edges. Her stomach and thighs shined with glitter and a lotion that brightened those areas. Her look captured one of pure sluttiness and cheapness. The makeup caked on her face enhanced her tired features tenfold to the point of ugliness. The smokey eyes, excess orange blush, and engine red lipstick gooped together left her looking like a porn star. She might as well have been one. People always thought she was one anyway. The Latina couldn't begin to count the number of times she'd been called to star in a movie from one of her performances on that god forsaken stage. After several late nights "working", she needed more gunk on her face than usual because of the gaunt look she developed from the embarrassment and shame of the job. Her face looked nothing more than a shell of a person. She hated wearing so much and she hated, or rather was disgusted by the skimpy clothes. They were okay in the bedroom during intimate times, but not on a stage making money degrading her body and perusing her body as an object. Her self-esteem and confidence was shot from all the cat calls and lude comments made about her body. The Latina had an unusual high level of confidence, but now it was down a little, and she had become introverted to most people.

Sighing, she slipped on the dangerously high but sexy strappy heels. After wearing them every night, she was a pro walking in them now. Her calves no longer ached from the constant motion. Santana attempted to saunter down the corridor, though it was difficult because she didn't feel sexy, but like a piece of meat, wishing, not for the first time, she hadn't accepted this job.

-/-/-/-/

"Welcome to Purple Rain," the stylish, obviously gay, manager enthused.

"So when do I start?" Santana mused, lounging back exposing her curves in her tight clothing, meanwhile throwing in a lazy killer smile examining her nails as if she didn't really care what the answer was.

He rakes his eyes very appreciatively over her body, smiling devilishly, which makes Santana's stomach squeamish. "How about now?" The tone of his voice laughing at her.

The manager leads her to a dressing room and practically shoves her in it. "Get dressed," he says, deadpanned. "Or undressed." His laughter growl like.

Santana inspects the dressing room realizing she won't be that bartender she applied for.

-/-/-/-/

Santana approaches the stage, hearing cheers from all the men, and women, who strangely outnumber the men that come to watch her. Ripping the curtains open, she strutted down the small runway, the cheers deafening. This is so not the job I want to be good at, she thought. She grabbed the pole and slung her thing body all over it, music thumping in the background. Something that required a raunchy-sexified dance where she practically had to use the pole to get herself off. Santana utilized her movements that produced some serious hard-ons from the bar goers, especially the women. To earn her some more cash which found its way onto the stage along or tucked into her skimpy black lace panties, she reached her leg to the edge. After ridding herself of the sheer shawl she had been wearing, Santana sashayed back to the pole which she gripped with her leg, completing a series of erotic positions. On the second set of positions, she swore she saw the Rachel Berry just gawking at her, over by the bar, pitying her. Santana shook her head, thinking she was seeing things. She had had a few shots of tequila to produce enough will power to get back on stage another night. She hadn't been able to walk up there completely sober since the first night. She thought she had lost her innocence when she gave it up to Puck freshman year, but she didn't realize how wrong that though had been. But, if she wasn't seeing things that meant listening to a lecture from Berry later on. But come on, she thought, who would've thought a fleeting comment in Glee club would become reality.

-/-/-/-/

It was one day junior year in Glee club. She had made a few snarky remarks about the other Glee kids and Mr. Schuester. She knew they were insulting, but she just said what she was thinking. If she remembers right, she said she wished Quinn would've had a lizard baby, and Mr. Schue belonged in a twelve step program. Since he was addicted to vests. She came off as a bitch; she owned that. She just never prepared for anyone to test her, and if they did she figured she could just out insult them. She is from Lima Heights. She was raised on insults. Her abuela called her garbage face, and she didn't know that wasn't her name until first grade. She never would have guessed the one to test her and surprisingly out insult her would be Berry. The rest of her remarks she might not remember, but she remembers Berry's clearly.

"The only job you're going to get is working on a pole!"

-/-/-/-/

She gave Berry props for that one. As Santana recalled, she, Santana, jumped out of the plastic chair and raced out of the choir room so none of them could see her cry. She ended up in the corner of a doorway hyperventilating into Brittany's arms, trying to figure out why the other kids were mean to her, she was just telling the truth.

Santana laughed a little and continued to dance, momentarily forgetting the crowd, jeering at her. Still throwing dollars at her. She gathered some breath before she slowly moved off the pole and toward the edge of the stage again. The Latina gawffed at letting anyone touch her legs not in the thoroughs of passion, but she received big tips for it so she stretched them to the ledge, hearing many moans and feeling several hands on her toned calves. As she did this though, there was no mistaking the long brown hair and the brown eyes, now looking anywhere else but at Santana, handing her a twenty dollar bill.

Momentarily Santana froze, unsure of what to do. No one had known about her job. Everyone, including Brittany and Quinn whom she talked to on a regular basis, thought she was a waitress that just made good tips. Quickly Santana seized the bill from Rachel, their fingers brushing before she retreated back to the pole. The rest of the overly sexualized routine dragged on forever in her eyes, making her feel awkward for the first time since starting this job. She may have needed tequila, but just to loosened her up. She never had a real confidence problem until now. This was the first time she ever felt ashamed because of what she did. Santana attempted to finish her routine, but her mind replayed the look on Rachel's face as she handed the Latina the money over and over. Everything seemed wrong, the movements wrong. Ironically, despite her disgust for the job, this was the first time the movements felt forced and jerky, all because of the look she was getting from Berry.

-/-/-/-/

Santana threw the curtain open, disappearing through it. Rachel climbed on stage, and whilst on stage the men tried to throw her money, and the women chanted for more. Confused and disgusted Rachel hurriedly followed Santana to her dressing room. Upon reaching a long stretch of dressing rooms Rachel decidedly became more and more upset. Forcing herself to a faster pace, Rachel watched Santana's sway with each step, realizing the Latina was too good to be doing this. Rachel reached her as she walked through the doorframe and whirled Santana around by the upper arm.

Santana wheeled around about to pound on whoever had the audacity to grab her. Realizing it was Berry, her expression softened just a little, but still contained an impressive bitch face. "How the hell did you get back here, Berry?"

Rachel folded her arms, her face rigid, but eyes soft. "The same way you did. I worked the stage. Got some money, too," she said holding up a ten dollar bill.

Santana's jaw slacked and Rachel smirked as Santana tried to recompose herself. "Are you going to continue to let us stand out here, or you going to invite me in?"

Still a little flustered, Santana ushered her in and sagged into a director's style chair, while Rachel leaded against the makeup table, letting out a disappointed sigh. "What are you doing, Santana?"

"I'm shaking my goods for money, what does it look like? Besides, why do you even care, Berry? You're the one that predicted this."

"Wait, what are you referring to? I didn't predict this."

"Ha!" she scoffed. "You said all I've ever be good at is working a pole," Santana said a little disheartened.

Remembering, Rachel laughed, "Oh, Santana that was a fleeting comment from two years ago to give you a taste of what you dished out to the rest of us every day and because I felt you deserved it. Secretly," Rachel leaned in and whispered, "I was a little jealous."

It was Santana's turn to smirk. "I can understand that last bit." Santana lounged back in her chair, spreading her limbs to expose her body. Nasally, Rachel sucked in a sharp breath at her first glance of the Latina almost bare before her. The brunette had witnessed her on stage, but something about her now seemed vulnerable which added more sex appeal and maybe a hint of confidence. Rachel appreciated the body lounged out before her without trying to be too obvious. Santana's eyes took great care to watch Rachel's take in her body. Somehow having the smaller brunette watch her like this made her nervous, which is something she didn't like feeling. She outright laughed when Rachel tried to act as if she hadn't just been checking her out. "If I didn't know any better, Berry, I'd say you were liking what you're seeing."

Feeling hot and caught, Rachel attempted to swallow with a dried mouth. "That's beside the point."

Suggestively, Santana upturned her eyebrows intrigued and shook her head as if to say, "And you point is?"

Regaining some dignity, Rachel continued. "You are so much better than this, Santana. And just to let you know, I was jealous of more than just…your body." Gesturing to all the exposed bronze flesh, she wet her throat. "I liked your confidence the most. You owned who you were and weren't afraid to show it." Getting a tad of courage, Rachel reached over and rested the pads of her fingers on Santana's thigh, a tender desiring look in her eyes as they grazed her warm skin. Rachel smiled at the shiver she felt under her finger tips that unconsciously went through the Latina's body. Earnestly, she forced Santana to lock eyes with her by lightly massaging her thigh. "Even though, you're wearing less than, well wearing your lingerie, you're hiding yourself very well. I never thought I'd ever see that from you. You are beautiful, Santana. Why are you making yourself look cheap and pretending not to care that you're stuck here at this demeaning job?"

"Who says I do?"

"Well, for starters your wearing more makeup than a porn star, but beneath one can tell how you feel because your eyes are hollow and distant. And one can also see the pure exhaustion if they look hard enough."

"Well." Santana argued, but realized she really couldn't argue since she felt the same way. Crossing her arms, she turned away, refusing to agree and admit Berry was right.

"Look, Santana," Rachel reasoned. "I came here because somehow word got around to what you were doing and because…" Rachel dropped her gaze from Santana's eyes while withdrawing her hand from her thigh. When did this happen? she asked herself. When did I develop feelings for Santana Lopez? She couldn't admit that she had feelings her. How could she? Especially admit them to her? She couldn't figure it out herself.

"What, Berry?" the question now soft and lazy with a hint of irritation, the raven haired girl picking sequins on her bra.

"I—uh—wanted you to come to—umm—New York with me," she husked out. Santana's fingers froze and in slow motion lifted her focus to the other brunette's face. Shocked turned to amazed and then amused. The Latina smirked and raised her eyebrows. "I mean you don't have to, but you are a really amazing performer, Santana, and I don't mean the way you are now. You're so talented; your voice is just amazing. I wish I could hit the notes like you do and had even half of your dancing abilities. I know you loved to sing to an audience. You had a blast singing Valerie junior year. New York has so many more opportunities for you to do that, and I thought since we're friends or were friends that you would want to come to see what you could do, and…"

A little cocky, Santana shifted in her seat and scooted to the edge. Deliberately grazing her fingers on Rachel's shoulders, the Latina eased within inches to the other brunette's mouth. She caught the brief glance of Rachel's' eyes to her mouth and gently rested her mouth on hers, pillowing Rachel's lip between hers. The kiss was brief. Soft and sweet, with an underlying passion. Santana relaxed, ungluing their lips. She tenderly glanced at Rachel, still puckered up and eyes closed before returning to herself. Hand still on Rachel's shoulders, Santana whispered, "Shut up, Berry."

Rachel opened her eyes still uncertain, but now knowing what the fuss over her was about. Fazed, she touched her lower lip which was pulsing from Santana having bit it. "Santana?" She moved her eyes to the Latina's soft lips and back to her eyes. Rachel shifted and gripped the Latina's neck, tangling her fingers in her raven hair. Rachel dragged her mouth and body closer, smashing their lips back together.

The Latina secured her arms around Rachel's torso, bringing her down to sit across her lap, hands tangling in clothes trying to rid her of her shirt. Giving up, Santana's fingers traveled up Rachel's back to slightly tug at the ends of her hair the nerves there heightened. Rachel's gasp which was all Santana needed; she plunged in her tongue licking aggressively and skillfully into Rachel's mouth.

Rachel skimmed the shawl off Santana's shoulders, draping her arms over her back, grazing a trail . A moan escaped Santana's throat, and Rachel released them both for breath. The two girls shared a smile shy on Rachel's end, enticing on Santana's end. The Latina then took full advantage of the newly exposed neck, nipping, biting, sucking along the brunette's jawline. Rachel's breath caught her pounding heart erratic. She hissed out her breath in time for the Latina to nip her pulse line. The noise escaping her throat shot wetness down between Santana's legs. Extremely turned on, she smiled against her skin, savoring the taste.

"Santana…" Rachel managed to croak, her body extremely hot.

"Mmm…"

"We can't. Not here," the brunette managed to pant out between bites on her neck.

The Latina elevated her head to stare at the brunette dubiously. She viewed her dialated pupils admiring, the want and burning desire she found there. The Latina liked that just making out could get Rachel so riled up, and affect her the way it did. Santana raised her eyebrows questioning her. She wasn't actually going to go too far without more thought in the consent. She didn't want any regrets, plus she needed to slow a bit, before she went down the other girl. She didn't want to scare her off. Rachel bit her lip and slightly nodded. That was all the invitation Santana needed.

The Latina gathered her street clothes from her couch, and began tugging the jeans on as well as force the sweatshirt over her head. This time Rachel laughed outright and crossed her arms. "That seems kinda counterproductive, don'tcha think?" she said arching an eyebrow.

Santana huffed. "It was your suggestion. I have no problem with pulling you down and making love to you. Right here. On this floor."

Rachel flushed.

"That's what I thought," Santana smirked. "Let's go."

-/-/-/-/

Santana unlocked the door to her lavish apartment that looked more like a penthouse. Majority of the north wall consisted of windows, giving way to a phenomenal view: beautifully structured buildings, a gorgeous nearby park and some body of water out to the west. The great room which was what Rachel was seeing was open and lived in. To the right was the living area which held worn, black leather furniture, a large plasma screen TV with an oak, beautifully hand crafted entertainment center, filled with an array of DVDs and music. To the left, the kitchen looked straight out of a magazine with stainless steel appliances, marble counter tops and expensively crafted cabinets. Everything stay to the art and looking brand new, but a sense of use, of experience, radiated from the kitchen area. "My room is through the door way to the right, there's a bathroom through there if you need it." Hanging up her purse, Santana headed for the kitchen before she realized Rachel had not moved from the door way. "Umm…Rachel, I didn't bring you here so you could stand in the hallway."

"You live, here?"

"Obviously." Santana jogged over to Rachel and grabbed her hand, guiding her inside, kicking the door closed behind them.

"How can you afford this?" the awed brunette asked following her into the kitchen.

"Seriously, Berry? I made like 400 bucks tonight alone. I have to spend the money somewhere."

"Right," she answered chagrinned, taking off her coat. The coat she was wearing was rather long so until this point, Santana had never seen what was beneath. Sliding the coat down her arms revealed a low scooped, long sleeved black dress that rested at mid thigh, contrasting with her slightly tanned olive skin tone and blonde highlights at the ends of her hair. Santana stared at Rachel's still stunned expression and clothing and thought she'd never seen anyone cuter. The Latina shook her head to escape the foreign though

"Look—uh—there's some food or whatever. Make yourself at home. I'm gonna go shower. I don't want all this glitter to get all over, especially all over you." The latter part of the sentence emanated sex. Rachel felt heat run straight between her thighs from the voice that she was sure the Latina only used in the bedroom. Santana gave Rachel a peck on the cheek and hurried to the shower, anticipation building. She wanted all up on her…Rachel. The thought was odd. The Latina never thought of the brunette as anything other than annoying, but since high school she has been dressing differently, more sexily. And that kiss at the bar did her in. She needed to get Rachel Berry.

The Latina stripped down to nothing throwing her clothes into the basket. She flipped the water to hot, steam filling the room. Santana stepped into the large tile shower, letting the scalding water cascade along the couture of her curvy yet thin body. She had the perfect skin tone and had the perfection of curvation with ample features. Tilting her head up, the water began to wash away the glitter, giving her skin a fresher cleaner look, ridding her body of disgust.

"You missed a spot."

The silky smooth voice startled the Latina. Her hands froze across her chest. Santana circled around and rested her eyes on Rachel, who looking sinful, was standing so close she almost hit her. Sharply in taking breath, Santana took in the sexy and gorgeous woman standing before her. Lowering her eyes slightly, Santana's mouth watered. Her collar bone and neck looked so delicious. Every inch of skin was perfect. Dropping her gaze further, the Latina gazed at the dusky nipples perfectly centered on her round shaped breasts. The Latina's mouth begged to suck them in. And those legs. So tan, lean, and long. The Latina brought her gaze up to the brunette's chest again. God, she wanted her mouth around those luscious mounds. Santana finally raised her eyes to look Rachel in the eye, whose smoldering smile made Santana almost cum on the spot.

"Where?" the Latina's voice dropped with desire.

Rachel stepped closer. "Here," she said barely above a whisper, circling Santana's nipple with her thumb. "And here." Rachel placed her mouth on Santana's collarbone and sucked as she kept flicking her nipple. She swirled her tongue and nipped the sensitive skin between her neck and collarbone. As she did this she rolled the hardening rosy bud with her thumb and forefinger, plucking slowly to elicit a groan from the aching Latina. Moving her lips along Santana's slick wet jawline, Rachel licked up the remaining salty taste of her before rubbing her tongue along Santana's moist plushy lips. Teasing the Latina further, Rachel dragged her hand from the Latina's throbbing breast down her taut abs making tight movements on her lower abdomen. Finally, Rachel granted some access to the starving Latina. Slipping her tongue between her full lips, Rachel tried to hold on to her dominance, dueling Santana, but she quickly gave in to the magic of the taste of the taller brunette. Rachel knew that whatever expectations she had would be surpassed by just having Santana's tongue sliding over her. A moan came up through Rachel's throat causing vibrations in their mouths which sent heat through the Latina's lean stomach.

The Latina's hands glided along the slippery ivory skin of the brunette, mentally committing to memory the curve of her back above her ass, the small indents inside her hips, and how when pressed together their bodies were flesh together. Ungluing their lips, while Rachel pouted, the Latina guided them to the ledge inside the tile shower. Rachel's smile glowered as she straddled the Latina wrapping her legs tightly around the darker skinned ones. Santana hissed out a breath she had been unaware she was holding when Rachel's entire body was pressed against hers now with pressure. Admiring the body before her, the Latina silently thanked herself for having thought to put the ledge in. Santana brushed her fingers of her left hand along the ivory skinned girl's abdomen; the right hand gently cupped the girl's breast palming it. The Latina lowered her right hand causing Rachel breath to start hitching as she thought Santana was about to dip between her folds. Instead Santana continued to tease her, resting her right hand on the inside of her thigh, moving her thumb in tight circles, gripping her leg. So focused on her hand, Rachel didn't notice until warm breath hit her nipple that Santana had been flicking her nipple with her tongue. Taking the nub between her teeth the Latina began to suck. Rachel gripped Santana's shoulder hanging on for dear life. She was overstimulated as fuck, and the Latina just kept teasing her. Rachel twisted her fingers in the wet raven locks of the Latina, trying to rock into the Santana's hand, seeking friction because she couldn't take just the stroking much longer.

But Santana was having none of that. Smiling into the flesh of her breast, Santana slowly stroked the length of Rachel's milky thighs, moving further from her center. Letting go of her nipple, Santana trailed wet open mouth kisses back up to Rachel's neck, sucking gently with each point of contact. Nipping the underside of her jaw, Santana traced intricate patterns with her free hand along Rachel's back. Having enough teasing, a growling noise came from the back of Rachel's throat. The brunette roughly grabbed Santana's arm inching it closer to her heat eager to have the Latina's fingers fill her.

The Latina raised her eyes to gaze at Rachel whose eyelids were half closed and out of focus, but whose whole composure changed when Santana had lifted her mouth from her skin. Realizing the Latina's intentions, Rachel locked her glazed over eyes with the Latina's. Santana watched intently as Rachel's expression changed as the Latina's knuckles nudged her open for full access. Rachel was so wet; it was hard for Santana to tease her little button of nerves. The brunette's hips jutted forward at the first graze of Santana's fingers to her clit, a liquid throaty groan coming from her. Liking Rachel's reaction, the Latina rolled her clit between her fingers again. The brunette began to rock into Santana's hand wanting more contact. Teasing her clit, Santana moved another hand to gently stroke her inside walls. Rachel's hips kept rolling, and Santana waited until she was jutting into her before sliding two fingers into her opening. Rachel's mouth formed a perfect 'o' as an inaudible moan escaped her lips. Santana curled her fingers and dragged them along the spot inside Rachel she was sure she had no idea was there. The brunette cried out moving her hips faster, riding Santana's hand hard. Rachel slid her hands to grip Santana's hips, as Santana returned her mouth to the brunette's neck.

"Oh fu-uck…San…do-on't stop!"

Rachel's breath became ragged and unsteady as she tightened around Santana's hand.

"No," she managed to seethe out, grabbing Santana's wrist to prevent her from pumping her fingers into Rachel. Then she heard a husky whisper. "I'm not going without you."

Rachel roughly entered the Latina with three fingers to quickly make up the time two fingers had affected her. The Latina dropped her head back at the fierceness and instant contact with the brunette's hand, groaning she pushed her hips into Rachel's hand. The brunette thrusted her fingers in and out applying added pressure to the ridges inside the Latina. Rachel groaned from the wetness that had quickly covered her hand. After she was sure the Latina was at her level of arousal, Rachel slowed her thrusting and let go of the Latina's wrist, but only to grab Santana by the back of the neck and crash their bruised mouths together. The brunette licked savagely into the Latina's mouth, trying to taste and feel all of her and somehow more of her.

Rachel ignited a deeper fire in both of them with that kiss. Both of the girls slid along the body of the other, pulled each other as close as they could get, wanting more and more of each other. They rocking into the other's hand so fiercely and with so much passion and abandonment, sweat began to mingle with the water from the shower head. Santana's teeth scraped along hot flesh, her tongue lapping up the taste of Rachel's skin. Rachel buried her face into the Latina's hair savoring the smell. Their breathing became increasingly more unsteady and was replaced with gasping and moaning.

"Oh God…San…ple-ease…don…ooooo…..don't…stop….SANNNTTAANNNAAA!" Rachel screamed out as the Latina pushed her over the edge.

"Oh…oooo…shhiiittt…RACCCHHHELLLL!"

Rachel collapsed on Santana's lap, both waiting for their breathing to return to normal.

"God," the Latina whispered now gripping Rachel's hips.

"No, but pretty damn close," Rachel smirked, lazily twirling a strand of the Latina's hair.

Santana shook her head. "Damn, Berry. Where was this side of you in high school?"

"It was always there, Santana," the brunette purred against her ear.

The vibrations caused instant arousal at Santana's core making her ready for round two. And she told Rachel so.

"Well, San, in case you haven't noticed, the water coming out is now cold."

"I have a bed," she shrugged.

Rachel laughed and sidled off her lap, Santana complaining with every step.

-/-/-/-/

"How long are you here for?" Santana asked from the kitchen, getting some popcorn. How she ended up doing that she had no idea. If it were up to her they'd already a had a round two, and three, and maybe round four. But she didn't want to push Rachel and whatever was happening between them. Besides, she figured she could get all up on that sexy woman again that was now sitting on her couch waiting for her, so she went along with what Rachel wanted. And that was talk, which is something the Latina was never good at when it came to intimacy. She was better at using her tongue in other ways.

Rachel waited until Santana relaxed onto the couch with her before answering. "I have to fly back tomorrow afternoon."

"Why?" Nonchalantly popping a kernel in her mouth, internally smacking herself for adding a slightly pouty expression.

"Umm…I have school, Santana. And I'm not going to start not going, skipping, whatever, my third semester. I came this weekend because I care. And I heard Quinn and even Brittany couldn't get through to you."

"I knew they'd talk, and don't get all sappy with me, Berry."

"I know you care, too." Rachel fixed a knowing look in her direction.

"Look just because we had sex and kissed and stuff doesn't mean anything." The response caught both girls off guard, though Santana was able to contain it. The Latina glanced at the slightly hurt face of the brunette through her thick eyelashes. Way to go, Lopez, you can't stop being a bitch. Even to Rachel.

"It may not to you, but it does to me." Always one to not seem fazed, her words had more effect on Santana than her insult had on the brunette.

Santana inwardly cringed, now decidedly uncomfortable. She heard the underlying meaning but didn't want to believe it. She been too many straight girls experimentation phase. Plus, the Latina had a hard time dealing with the fact that she saw Berry in that way. She couldn't figure out how she had hated her for all of high school.

"Remember the weekend you came to New York two months ago? You saw Brody for what he was, and being the loyal friend I know you are, you forced me to see it, too." Rachel folder her legs under her and moved closer to Santana.

"Well, Brody is a narcissistic call boy who's probably crawling with diseases." The Latina crossed her arms and tilted her head.

"You care, Santana. You always get defensive or act indifferent when someone hits the truth inside of that secretly big heart of yours."

"No, I was just proving that I was right about Brody. And the Rachel I know deserves better than NYADA's man whore."

Rachel leaned back, crossing her arms, mentally thinking Santana was proving her point for her. "Deny it all you want, I know you care. I also know you hate your job. You hate anything that belittles you. So I know you wouldn't be doing it if you felt you deserved more. What happened to the Santana I know, or thought I knew? The one that was going someplace, the one with super confidence like you blatantly used in the shower. The Santana I knew and saw then deserves better." Rachel placed her hand on the Latina's folded arms. Leaning forward, she continued, "She deserves to be doing something she loves. She loved singing and dancing."

Santana brushed her hand away. "I may not exactly love my job, but I'm good at it. I get a lot of money, and I'm hot," she shrugged. For the life of her she couldn't figure out why she was defending being a stripper when Rachel was right. She hated it.

"Exactly. You're good for all the reasons that you shouldn't be doing it," Rachel said matter of factly, a rosy blush creeping up her neck as she thought of what she was implying. "You've got the talent, the confidence and," Rachel coughed back, hiding her increasing attractedness, "the body. Come back with me. See what you could be doing." She ended up sounding more needy than she intended, but shit the Latina knew what to do, and if Santana could make her feel like a goddess, Rachel wanted to maximize the opportunity. She really liked the softer side of the Latina.

"Like what? I don't want to go that school of yours. I have bigger dreams." Santana snapped back. She didn't want to acknowledge the appeal living in New York with Rachel had or the underlying pleading she heard in the other girl's voice.

"Like working as a stripper and cage dancer at a shady bar? C'mon Santana." Rachel now becoming not desperate, but the voice of reason. The more logical one. Her voice mocking the darker skinned girl.

"No…" The Latina hated this about Berry. She usually could find the truth in her somehow, and Santana couldn't look at her because of that.

"Then what?"

Frustrated, Santana jumped up and threw her hands up. "I don't know! I'm not like you or Kurt and everyone else. I don't have it all figured out. And if even I did, I wouldn't begin know how to get there." Uncharacteristic for Santana, she looked unhinged and scared.

Rachel smiled over at the flaming Latina. "I like this Santana."

Uneasily, Santana crinkled her nose and slanted her eyes, confusion and disbelief written all over her face. Rachel shrugged, her smile growing wider. "I like this side of you. The real side that not everybody gets to see."

"Don't patronize me, Berry. It's always real, all the time." The Latina crossed her arms, sitting down on the other side of the couch.

"No patronizing, just the truth," Rachel began fixing her body to face Santana. "I like the Santana 'who keeps it real' the one who shows her REAL side when she's pissed, frustrated, or being passionate."

Santana scowled and moved her gaze elsewhere, trying to ignore that last bit. Rachel laughed, gaining confidence, got up off the couch. The brunette maneuvered to kneel in front of the Latina and rested her small hands on Santana's thighs. "You are better off in New York, than in powdunk Kentucky for the talents you have. Use the extra cash for this place and whatever else to come to New York. Enroll in dance classes. Singing lessons, though God knows you don't need either. Do whatever you want. Anything is better than what you are doing now. And…I can give you another good reason to come," Rachel said, pushing herself up, invading Santana's personal space.

"What would that be? Santana asked, grabbing Rachel's hips and setting her on her lap.

"Me," she whispered against Santana's lips.

-/-/-/-/

"Glad you came?" Rachel asked, rolling on top of Santana.

"Which time?"

"Santana!"

From the other room, Kurt's disgruntled voice could be heard. "Could you guys at least try to keep quiet?! I'd rather not hear you when you have sex!"

Santana yelled back, "Then you better get some earplugs for the future, Hummel. I can't help that she's a screamer, Kurt!"

Kurt could be heard blenching as Rachel tried to hide her giggles.

Santana chuckled and stroked Rachel's hair. The Latina nudged Rachel's hips so she was on her back and rolled on top of her. "Yes, in answer to your question, Rach," she husked out, breath on Rachel's lips. "I am." And she closed the distance.

**A/N: Yes, lesbian shower sex scene is overrated and overused. Wasn't planning on using it, but the story went in a way that it fit well. Yes, it's probably over descriptive, too.**


End file.
